Gently Sahib Read Free Page A

your resignation. But perhaps you forgot to hand it in.’
    He was a thin man with a saintly expression but when he was sarcastic he was angry. Gently placed Dutt’s report on the desk, remained standing and poker-faced.
    ‘The Public Prosecutor’s office—’
    ‘Damn the Public Prosecutor’s office.’
    ‘The case is being tried on Monday.’
    ‘I should be aware of that, Gently.’
    They looked at each other. Without shifting his gaze the AC took out his handkerchief and began polishing his glasses. He was one of the very few men who could stare at Gently on even terms.
    At last he said: ‘Well?’
    Gently cleared his throat. ‘I’m not an expert . . .’
    ‘What do you mean – not an expert?’
    ‘I don’t know anything about tigers.’
    ‘Aha,’ the AC said. ‘So that’s it.’
    ‘I couldn’t talk about them,’ Gently said. ‘Not to a man, about a tiger. Even dogs I’m not well up on.’
    The AC went on polishing his glasses. Then he put them on with a dainty flourish.
    ‘All right,’ he said, ‘I’m with you now. Message understood. You can sit down.’
    ‘Catching tench, now—’
    ‘Gently, sit down.’
    ‘But I’m not an expert on tigers.’
    ‘Sit down, man! The joke’s on me.’
    ‘I thought I should warn you,’ Gently said, sitting.
    The AC stared at him again, but now he was grinning. He wagged his head archly at Gently. Gently’s face was still blank.
    ‘So you thought I was having you on! Well, it may have sounded a bit like that. But I’m not, Gently. This is quite serious. We have a murder case with a tiger in it.’
    ‘Who’s the chummie?’ Gently said. ‘The tiger?’
    ‘Please! I told you this was serious. But the tiger may have been used as a murder weapon, which is unique in my experience.’
    The AC leaned elbows on the desk. He believed in himself as a raconteur. The wiping of the glasses, the pose with the elbows, they were all part of his act.
    But he couldn’t talk away the fact that Gently was on leave within forty-eight hours . . .
    ‘You remember what happened at Abbotsham last year? Almost exactly a year today! A tiger got loose on the Friday night and was roaming the streets the next morning.
    ‘It was a real tiger too, not just a scare somebody started. A big male, around ten feet long, which a johnny had imported from Pakistan. It was a mystery how it got out. The owner was in town that night. When his two hands showed up in the morning they found the cage unbolted and the gate part open.
    ‘The owner hared back to help the police catch it, but they didn’t take it alive. When it popped up in the provision market they had to shoot it, of course.
    ‘As far as they knew it had done no damage, other than wrecking a butcher’s van. The theory was that some bright kid had let it out for a dare.’
    The AC licked his lips.
    ‘Till yesterday,’ he said. ‘Then something interesting turned up in the garden of a bungalow near Abbotsham.’
    Gently tapped the desk with a blunt forefinger.
    ‘There was nothing about this in the papers.’
    ‘Nothing, I agree. But you wait. They’ll be screaming their heads off tomorrow.’
    ‘Meanwhile . . .’
    ‘You listen to me. This is your sort of a case. It’s got everything, and we can’t spoil it by sending down a nonentity.’
    Gently grunted. All right – but flattery wasn’t going to do it either!
    ‘That bungalow had been empty,’ the AC went on, ‘since the night of the tiger. It stands a mile outside the town on the Stowmundham road. First the milkman found nobody was taking in the milk, but the owner of the bungalow was sometimes away, so the milkman just stopped delivering.
    ‘The same thing happened with the paper boy and the other tradesmen – they called for a while, then gave it up as a bad job. But the postman kept calling – there was always the odd circular – and at last he became curious and peeped through the letter box. What he saw was sufficiently striking for him to mention